Tug McGraw Biography

Born Frank Edwin McGraw, August 30, 1944, in Martinez, CA; died from
cancer, January 5, 2004, in
Franklin, TN. Professional baseball player. The 2004 death of retired
baseball player Tug McGraw from cancer at the age of 59 stunned legions of
his longtime fans. McGraw was one of the sport's most exuberant and
popular figures during the 1970s and 1980s as a pitcher with the New York
Mets and the Philadelphia Phillies. In 1980, he led the Phillies to their
only World Series victory. McGraw's personal life was similarly
mythic: late in life, he learned he was the father of a young boy, who
went on to become country-music star Tim McGraw.

Born Frank Edwin McGraw in 1944, the future Major League Baseball legend
grew up in Vallejo, California, where he played ball for St. Vincent
Ferrer High School. His nickname dated back to infancy and his insistent
feeding habits. After a stint on the team at Vallejo Junior College, he
was signed to the New York Mets in 1964 as a free agent, and played with
the Mets' farm team for a season. He emerged as a top-notch
left-handed pitcher with a good fast-ball and solid curveball, but a third
throw was necessary to advance him out of the minors, and so McGraw
perfected the screwball pitch, which would become his trademark.

McGraw went on to help the Mets win the 1969 World Series, but it was in
the build-up to the 1973 post-season that his signature phrase, "Ya
gotta believe!" was coined. In August of that year, the Mets were
down more than eleven games, and after a particularly bad performance,
Mets chair M. Donald Grant delivered a torrid locker-room lecture to the
chastened team. Coming out of the meeting, McGraw was said to have uttered
the phrase, poking fun of Grant's pep talk, but his teammates burst
out laughing and they went on to a winning streak that landed them in the
World Series. Though the Mets lost to Oakland in seven games, "Ya
gotta believe!" became the catchphrase of the season and would
remain indelibly associated with McGraw's high-spirited
personality.

McGraw amassed a solid record as a pitcher, though he admitted that the
pressures of performing as a relief pitcher occasionally unnerved him.
"Coming into a game, my knees always feel weak," he admitted
to
New York Times
columnist Dave Anderson. "I have to push off the mound
harder." Known for his spontaneous quips and graciousness to his
fans, McGraw became one of the sport's most beloved figures of the
times. "He wore his sandy hair long," noted
New York Times
writer Frank Litsky, "and with his little-boy face and boyish
enthusiasm he was a crowd favorite. After a third out, he would run off
the mound, slapping his glove against a thigh. After a close call, he
would pat his heart." Traded to Philadelphia in 1974, he went on to
help the franchise take East Division titles in 1976, 1977, and 1978, and
the National League pennant in 1980 and 1983. But it was Game Six of the
Phillies' World Series race in 1980 that would define
McGraw's career and make him a hero forever in his adopted
home-town: in the ninth inning, with bases loaded, he struck out batter
Kansas City's Willie Wilson, and the Phillies won the World Series
pennant for the first time in Major League history.

The photograph taken just after that moment showed McGraw jumping off his
mound, hands high in the air, and became one of the classic images in
sports history. Another timeless photo was captured just seconds later,
when Phillies third-base player Mike Schmidt jumped into his arms on the
mound. Schmidt later said the two had planned it on their ride to Veterans
Stadium that night. "Both of us knew whoever was on or near that
mound for the final out would probably be on the cover of
Sports Illustrated,
" Schmidt told the same publication. "Sure enough, it
worked. Tug struck out Wilson and then turned to look at me at third base.
Of course I came running and jumped on him."

The 1984 season was McGraw's last in baseball. He retired with a
96-92 record and a 3.14 earned-run average. He became a television
reporter for a Philadelphia station, wrote three children's books,
and remained a fan favorite. The father of two sons and a daughter, he
belatedly discovered his fourth and oldest child after an eleven-year-old
Louisiana boy came across his birth certificate. Tim Smith was an ardent
baseball fan, and was stunned to find the name of one of his heroes in the
space on the document that listed the father's name. Smith, who
later took his father's name, was the product of a romance between
McGraw and Betty Trimble that occurred during his minor-league career, and
McGraw had never known of the boy's existence. McGraw and his
long-lost son enjoyed a close relationship, and Tim McGraw grew up to
become a country-music legend and husband of Faith Hill, another Nashville
star.

McGraw was diagnosed with a brain tumor in March of 2003 while working at
Phillies spring-training camp in Clearwater, Florida, as a special
instructor. He underwent surgery in Tampa, after which his
doctors—a team of top specialists assembled and paid for by his
son, Tim—believed they had eradicated it completely, but a
wait-and-see policy was in place when McGraw next appeared in public again
on May 29. "I'm not fearful," McGraw told reporters
in a characteristically upbeat
mood, according to a Knight Ridder/Tribune News Service report by Paul
Hagen. "I have confidence." He went to work on his
autobiography, which carried the not-unexpected working title,
Ya Gotta Believe!
.

In September of 2003, McGraw reprised his 1980 World Series moment at the
closing ceremonies at Veterans' Stadium in Philadelphia, which was
slated for demolition in March of 2004. He had hoped to be there for the
demolition, but on December 31, 2003, he suffered a seizure, and died six
days later at a cabin in Franklin, Tennessee, near the home of his son,
Tim, and family. His former Philly teammate Schmidt told
Sports Illustrated
that McGraw accepted his fate with the same attitude that had made him
such a favorite among players and fans alike. "Publicly, he never
let on that he had gotten a raw deal," Schmidt noted. "As he
always said, 'I front-loaded my life, just like my
contract.'"